Molly so she can let me know, right?”
Tashi smiled and shook her shaggy head. She ruffled my hair, then loped off into the trees.
“I guess she doesn’t need anything.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and faced the house. Nothing moved through the windows, but the calm was deceptive. Six more people might have shown up in the time I was gone. I released a melodramatic sigh, braced myself, and marched.
Inside, the deceptive calm was even more convincing.
“Hello?” I moved through the silent house, poking my head through doors, calling out to the missing people. “Anybody?”
There weren’t that many rooms to go through. I came in through the living room, checked all three bedrooms, both bathrooms and the kitchen. Not a soul.
Frowning—and more than a little worried, since Mom shouldn’t have left the protection of the house—I stepped through the kitchen door and into the magical invisi-bubble surrounding my back yard.
Somehow, with my head ducked and my own voice grumbling in my ears, I’d missed the smell of roasting meat and the sound of people’s voices when I’d come through the edge of the bubble on the side of the house.
Mom, Sara and Kam sat in folding chairs around a campfire, chatting and poking long sticks at an array of roasting food spread on a grate above the fire.
“Finally,” Sara said. “We thought someone would have to go get you.”
Maurice unfolded another chair and pushed me into it. “Sit, sit, sit. I’ll get you a drink.”
Kam leaned into me from the chair next to mine. “Andrew and Daniel are coming soon.” She lowered her voice, as if sharing a shocking secret. “They’re bringing cake.”
I considered pinching myself. The scenario held a sort of dreamlike quality, as if I’d dozed off and currently lay facedown in a plate of spaghetti. I’d left a crowded house full of tense people and came home to a camping trip in my backyard.
In November.
Break out the marshmallows and the plastic margarita glasses.
Zoey’s gone over the edge and they’re staging an old-fashioned
,
backyard-barbeque intervention.
As if he were reading my thoughts, Maurice reappeared by my side and handed me a margarita.
I took a grateful sip. “Where did Riley and Darius go?”
Mom held up her glass and smirked. “Tequila run. You got the last of it.”
I frowned. Was everyone insane? Two of our heavy hitters went on an alcohol run, leaving a closet monster whose threat was largely illusion and a djinn who was trying to save her magic. Yes, we were inside the bubble, so probably couldn’t be found—but if we were, I’d rather have a mothman and a reaper there as muscle. I’d seen them fight. We were all safer with those two around.
Maurice hummed to himself while he painted sauce on a rack of ribs. Sara and my Mom struck up a debate over kitten heels versus wedges. Kam—who for some odd reason was dressed in cutoffs, work boots and a flannel shirt and
had
to be freezing—pulled her hair to one side and braided it.
Maybe it was me who had lost her mind. I was twitchy and stressed, but everyone else acted as though it were a perfectly normal day.
No. Not a normal day.
A
great
day.
A day to celebrate, have some fun, and spend time together.
I narrowed my eyes and watched everyone more carefully. The dark circles under Sara’s eyes were more pronounced than a few days before. Mom’s hand shook a little as she raised her glass to sip her margarita. Kam’s foot tapped at a fast pace, as if all the calm she showed had forced her tension into one foot that had to release the tension or shoot off her ankle from the built-up pressure.
There was so much food on that grill, an army couldn’t finish it all.
And
that
was the biggest giveaway of all—Maurice cooked when he was nervous or upset.
This wasn’t a picnic. This was an end-of-the-world party.
The realization of what was really going on should have made me nervous, but it had the opposite effect. My friends weren’t
Tashi smiled and shook her shaggy head. She ruffled my hair, then loped off into the trees.
“I guess she doesn’t need anything.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and faced the house. Nothing moved through the windows, but the calm was deceptive. Six more people might have shown up in the time I was gone. I released a melodramatic sigh, braced myself, and marched.
Inside, the deceptive calm was even more convincing.
“Hello?” I moved through the silent house, poking my head through doors, calling out to the missing people. “Anybody?”
There weren’t that many rooms to go through. I came in through the living room, checked all three bedrooms, both bathrooms and the kitchen. Not a soul.
Frowning—and more than a little worried, since Mom shouldn’t have left the protection of the house—I stepped through the kitchen door and into the magical invisi-bubble surrounding my back yard.
Somehow, with my head ducked and my own voice grumbling in my ears, I’d missed the smell of roasting meat and the sound of people’s voices when I’d come through the edge of the bubble on the side of the house.
Mom, Sara and Kam sat in folding chairs around a campfire, chatting and poking long sticks at an array of roasting food spread on a grate above the fire.
“Finally,” Sara said. “We thought someone would have to go get you.”
Maurice unfolded another chair and pushed me into it. “Sit, sit, sit. I’ll get you a drink.”
Kam leaned into me from the chair next to mine. “Andrew and Daniel are coming soon.” She lowered her voice, as if sharing a shocking secret. “They’re bringing cake.”
I considered pinching myself. The scenario held a sort of dreamlike quality, as if I’d dozed off and currently lay facedown in a plate of spaghetti. I’d left a crowded house full of tense people and came home to a camping trip in my backyard.
In November.
Break out the marshmallows and the plastic margarita glasses.
Zoey’s gone over the edge and they’re staging an old-fashioned
,
backyard-barbeque intervention.
As if he were reading my thoughts, Maurice reappeared by my side and handed me a margarita.
I took a grateful sip. “Where did Riley and Darius go?”
Mom held up her glass and smirked. “Tequila run. You got the last of it.”
I frowned. Was everyone insane? Two of our heavy hitters went on an alcohol run, leaving a closet monster whose threat was largely illusion and a djinn who was trying to save her magic. Yes, we were inside the bubble, so probably couldn’t be found—but if we were, I’d rather have a mothman and a reaper there as muscle. I’d seen them fight. We were all safer with those two around.
Maurice hummed to himself while he painted sauce on a rack of ribs. Sara and my Mom struck up a debate over kitten heels versus wedges. Kam—who for some odd reason was dressed in cutoffs, work boots and a flannel shirt and
had
to be freezing—pulled her hair to one side and braided it.
Maybe it was me who had lost her mind. I was twitchy and stressed, but everyone else acted as though it were a perfectly normal day.
No. Not a normal day.
A
great
day.
A day to celebrate, have some fun, and spend time together.
I narrowed my eyes and watched everyone more carefully. The dark circles under Sara’s eyes were more pronounced than a few days before. Mom’s hand shook a little as she raised her glass to sip her margarita. Kam’s foot tapped at a fast pace, as if all the calm she showed had forced her tension into one foot that had to release the tension or shoot off her ankle from the built-up pressure.
There was so much food on that grill, an army couldn’t finish it all.
And
that
was the biggest giveaway of all—Maurice cooked when he was nervous or upset.
This wasn’t a picnic. This was an end-of-the-world party.
The realization of what was really going on should have made me nervous, but it had the opposite effect. My friends weren’t
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